


The Morning After (The Night Before)

by PracticallyIJ



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff without Plot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PracticallyIJ/pseuds/PracticallyIJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Q wakes up, his sleepy, slightly hungover brain is slow to remember where he is, and even slower to recall what happened the night before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After (The Night Before)

**Author's Note:**

> This tiny little ficlet was a gift for my best friend. I hope it tides you guys over while I plan my next big fic, though there is another small ficlet coming soon.  
> Thank you all for continuing to comment, kudos and badger me for new work, because without you guys I probably would have lost the motivation to write a very long time ago. I love you guys!

Q woke up slowly, making the transition from deep sleep to consciousness so peacefully and unhurriedly, that at first he was barely aware he was awake at all. He sighed deeply and contentedly, feeling heavy and warm and sleepy. The room was cool, his bed warm, and this was his favourite time of the day - first thing in the morning, when he was still somewhere between awake and asleep, and the cold reality of the world hadn’t seeped in yet. This particular morning, though, something felt different. Not _bad_ different, just… slightly off.

******

_It’s ten o’clock on a Friday night. The bar is full and Q is surrounded by people, all deep in conversation and drink. He’s alone and tipsy. He looks at his watch - it’s his own fault that he’s on his own right now, he turned up half an hour early. Still, he reflects, no matter how many times he’s experienced this, he never really gets used to feeling so isolated and lonely in a crowd._

_Suddenly he’s jolted out of his thoughts by Sal sitting down across from him._

******

Q frowned into his pillow, his still drowsy brain trying to work out what was up. Something was definitely not the same about this morning, and he didn't know whether he was being dense, or if it was because he’d been drinking the night before, but it was taking forever for his head to catch up with his surroundings. Did it smell different in here? Was there a sound he wasn’t registering? He didn't want to move yet - he was so fucking comfortable - so he turned his head slightly and squinted one eye open.

******

_Q immediately feels less lonely. “Hey, bud! Did ya have a good vacation?”_

_“Ehh. Hotels and me, y’know. I was just glad to be home.”_

_“Oh god, what happened this time? Will this be a story worthy of What Say You? Because I can totally record it.” Q wouldn't be surprised by anything Sal could tell him about his hotel experiences at this point._

_Sal smiles fondly at him, all dimples and teeth and squinty green eyes, and Q’s stomach performs a backflip._

******

Q opened his eyes fully, taking in a sharp breath. No wonder something seemed fucking weird, he wasn't even in his own bed. It had happened before - plenty of times - most of the time when he woke up in somebody else’s bed the morning after being at a bar, he didn't know the person whose bed it was. But this - he’d know this room under any circumstances, should have known it the moment he woke up. He knew the smell, clean and comforting, knew the decor and the layout, and knew, beyond a doubt, who was lying behind him, apparently still sleeping.

This was Sal’s bed.

******

_“Nah, compared to some of the other crazy shit that’s happened to me, it was pretty boring,” Sal replies, sipping his drink. “Just some loud assholes partying next door to me.”_

_Q takes a drink too, feeling tense. There's no way Sal asked to meet up just to discuss their vacation - he'd sounded anxious over the phone. “Did ya complain?”_

_Sal snorts. “Obviously. It was like four am before security did anything, though.”_

_“Idiots.” Q downs the rest of his whiskey, then tries to adopt a casual tone. “So… what did you wanna meet here for, bud?”_

******

He took a moment to properly orient himself. Details of the night before were beginning to trickle back to him, and he could feel a warm blush spreading across his face. Taking care not to shake up the bed too much, he slowly turned onto his other side, and took in the sight of the man next to him. Sal, in his sleeping state, was breathtaking. He was lying on his side, hands tucked underneath his head. He looked young and peaceful and sweet, a far cry from how he usually was when awake - hyper alert, tense, and constantly overthinking everything. Q couldn't help smiling. He just looked so _beautiful_ , especially when it became obvious he was dreaming: a small smile appeared on his face, and a little sigh escaped him. Q’s heart melted.

******

_A dozen different micro-expressions cross Sal’s face before it settles on uncertainty and doubt. He drains his glass and gestures to the barman for two more, one each, before turning back to Q. “Uhh. Well. I guess I did some thinkin’ during vacation, and-”_

_“Is this gonna end with ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? ‘Cause buddy, I_ will _make a scene,” Q jokes, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels. What is this about?_

_Sal laughs. “Don't worry, I’m not breakin’ up with ya, pal. Actually…” he trails off, looking away, and takes a deep breath. “It’s kinda the opposite.”_

******

Q had no idea how long he lay there, just staring at Sal’s serene, sleep-flushed face, completely entranced by everything about this rarely seen side of his best friend, before he cautiously reached a hand across and - barely daring to breathe - gently stroked the other man’s jawline with the back of his hand. Soft and warm, the feel of Sal’s skin under his fingers brought back more memories of the night before, and Q’s breath caught in his throat. He turned his hand to cup Sal’s cheek, thumb lightly sweeping over his cheekbone. Part of him wanted Sal to wake up, but another wistful, selfish part of him wanted him to stay asleep, so that they could stay in this contented little bubble forever.

Then, ending any debate Q had going with himself, Sal stirred slightly, eyelids fluttering.

******

_“Opposite? What - whaddya mean, bud?” Q is neither stupid nor naive, he’s been on the end of this conversation before - but coming from his best friend, it can't be what it seems to be. He looks around discreetly for Joe and Murr, and waits for the punchline._

_Sal carries on. “Like I said, I was thinkin’ during the vacation. We, uh, we had like three weeks this time, right? And I was two and a half weeks in, and I realised that we hadn't gone so long without seein’ each other for... I can't even remember how long. And - and I realised how much I missed you.”_

******

Q drew back a little, afraid that last night had only been a dream, and that maybe he’d somehow be unwelcome here. But half a minute later, relief flooded through him when Sal regarded him through sleepy eyes, then graced him with a smile, tender and pleased. When he spoke his voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Q felt oddly shy. Here in front of him was his best friend of two and a half decades, and he felt fucking _shy_. He could feel a blush creeping across his cheeks again. “So… I guess last night was a thing, huh?”

“I guess so, bud.” There was laughter in Sal’s voice, but also a little note of uncertainty. “Is that… is this still okay?”

******

_Q still can’t see how to make the pieces fit here. The likely outcome seems more and more inevitable with every word out of his friend’s mouth, but why would Sal of all people be saying this?_

_Suddenly he realises he hasn't been listening, and tunes back in just in time to catch the other man say “-guess it made me realise how I… how I feel about you, bud.”_

_“Huh? How you feel?”_

_Sal chews on his bottom lip anxiously, staring across at Q. “I - god, I don't know why I’m sayin’ all this. You probably don't even feel the same. I just had to get it out, so I’d know for sure either way.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I - on vacation… fuck, it sounds so_ stupid _... I realised I’m in love with you, Bri.”_

******

“Okay?” Q couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Sal sat up, pouting a little. “Well, I just thought - you weren’t sober last night, neither of us were, and I thought maybe you might think differently now…”

“No, I don’t.” Sitting up, Q pulled Sal towards him, arm around his shoulders, the other man’s head on his chest. “Sally, everything I said to you last night was true. It was true then and it’s still true now. I want this more than anythin’ else I’ve ever wanted.”

“Me too, buddy.”

Q thought he would never get used to hearing words like that come from his best friend’s mouth. It made him so happy, so full of love, that he felt it rising up inside him like a tidal wave, uncontainable. He turned towards Sal so he could wrap him in a tight hug, feeling fiercely emotional, and when the other guy returned the hug with just as much passion, he decided he was never letting go.

******

_Q finds himself looking around again - for cameras, for the other two, for anything. After all, this has to be some kind of prank. Sal catches his expression and sighs. “This isn’t a prank, bud. I’m telling the truth.”_

_“You - you are? You really feel that way about me?” Q feels a little bit woozy, and he suspects it's only partly to do with his blood alcohol level. “You’re not bullshittin’ me?”_

_“Would I do that about somethin’ like this?” The withering look Sal gives him for that question says it all. “Just - I gotta know, one way or the other…”_

_Q hasn’t really got any choice. Sal is obviously telling the truth, so what’s the point in holding back any more? “Sal, I… God, of course I feel the same. I can’t even remember how long for. I never even_ thought _\- it never even crossed my mind that you might…” he trails off. He’s officially lost for words, so instead opts for the simple route. “I fucking love you, Sal.”_

_The smile Sal gives him is akin to the sun coming out. He takes Q’s hand, entwining their fingers. “I love you too, Bri. God, so much. I’m just sorry it took me so long to realise.” Shaking his head, he finishes his drink, and stands. “Look, it’s getting late. I - I wondered if you wanted to - I mean, nothin’ has to happen, but I just wanted to… d’you wanna spend the night at my place?” The last few words come tumbling out in a rush, Sal all red faced and stuttering._

_“I’d love that, bud.” Q stands as well, basking in his best friend’s radiant smile, and they walk outside. They turn to face each other, and Q leans in so that their mouths are just inches apart. He murmurs, “maybe just cuddle for tonight though, huh?” eliciting a laugh from Sal. Then, shutting his eyes, he closes the gap between them, and when their lips meet for the first time, he swears he hears fireworks off in the distance._

 

 


End file.
